Lace, Silver, and Blood
by happyghost
Summary: Two unusual brothers save a young woman from peril. Both are drawn to the beauty of her soul and crave her innocence. Trying to win her heart, a wedge is driven between them. Only her love has the power to drive them apart or bind them together. :) Vampires, Historical, Suspense, No Slash, PBJ
1. Chapter 1

**Hello readers! I'm back :D**

**Did you miss me?**

**I've actually been hard at work on this fic, which I couldn't start posting until I had a suitable name.**

**I'd like to thank all the nice folks who threw ideas at me during #namemyfic :**

**Bonzie**

**Caystar**

**Geezerwench**

**Hitchy**

**MyNameisBob**

**Also, Geezerwench helped me by prereading and basically wrote my summary. Thank you so much! Sometimes I added something after she pre-read, so if you find any mistakes . . . they're mine.**

**I'm already 6 chapters in, so hopefully, I can keep the chapters rolling.**

**I hope ya'll like it!**

**Happyghost :)**

**Extra A/N: I did post this before. It was up A WHOLE DAY before I freaked and pulled it off.**

**I was going through something, but I'm better now.**

**To the 4 lovely readers who reviewed it. Thank you ever so much for your support. Sorry I lost the reviews when I pulled the story, and you don't have to re-review.**

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><p>The saloon door swung open. The chilled night breeze blew in and brought two men with it, neither of them my father. For three long months I had watched the door and waited and hoped, but he'd yet to return.<p>

Although I knew it was rude to stare, I couldn't tear my gaze from the new, odd looking customers. They were markedly different than the usual clientele. They were dressed in fine clothing and wore long duster overcoats which looked remarkably clean, but that wasn't the only thing that set them apart. They were also the strangest looking men I had ever laid eyes on. Both of them had skin was as pale as snow and long hair as yellow as corn-silk. It was obvious, from their looks, that they were related. The both of them stood tall and proud and seemed to glide across the room, but what drew my attention immediately was that they wore glasses with smoked lenses, the same style that was used for the blind, even though it was nighttime.

"Stop staring and go ask them if'n they want a drink." The gruff old barkeep glanced up at me with disdain before he resumed his work. His weathered hand pushed a damp towel across the brass railing that lined the bar. "Mebbe they'll take a likin' to ya," he chuckled.

My stomach clenched at the thought. "Perhaps one of the other girls would like to talk to them first," I offered shyly.

The men cut large and imposing figures, and they had purposefully sat at the table furthest from the bar. It would be a long, terrifying walk for me to make.

"Vicki's house, Vicki's rules. She says you have to make nice with them new customers before the other girls get a turn, and them's new customers. Don't be skeered. They come through here about a year ago. Didn't cause no trouble. Said they's Albinas."

"A-a-al-binas? What's that?" Feeling self-conscious of my ignorance, I played with the hem of my frilly white dress and averted my eyes. It wasn't really_ my_ dress. Miss Vicki lent it to me to wear because she wanted to advertise my innocence.

"Hellfire, girl. Bein' an albina is a curse! Don't you know anythin'?"

"It's pronounced albino," Victoria sneered as she sauntered across the wooden floor, "Don't _you_ know anything?"

The barkeep crossed his arms. He didn't appreciate being corrected by a woman, even if that woman was his boss. "That's what I said. Albinas. They's brothers and they hafta wear those funny lookin' spectacles and hide from the sun cause they's so fair skinned. I hear tell some ol' witch put a curse on their Mama, and all her babies came out white as ghosts."

"Stop filling her head with that nonsense." Victoria hissed as she caught my arm with her perfectly manicured nails and dragged me from behind the safety of the bar. "Get over there and turn on the charm, just like I taught you. You do me proud, or I'll turn you over to James."

I shivered at the memory of the first time he had beaten me as I made my way across the room to greet the strange men.

One of them looked in my direction and smiled widely, while the other clenched his jaw and turned away.

The friendlier of the two tipped his hat. "Howdy, ma'am."

I bowed my head and focused on the floor. Although distinctly different, the men were attractive, and appeared well off. Someone was going to buy my virginity, and I'd have no say in the matter. It was a possibility that it could be one of them. They seemed like slightly better choices than any of the others that had inquired. I supposed it could have been worse. My lips turned up into a grimacing attempt at a smile. "Would you like me to bring you something to drink, or perhaps you might like some company."

"I'm sure I'd appreciate both." The one who spoke appeared to be the younger of the two, the friendly looking one. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply.

I couldn't see his eyes behind his dark glasses but felt sure that he was sizing me up in the same manner a fox stares down a rabbit.

Swallowing thickly, my hands fussed with the garish pink bow Miss Vicki had made me wear in my hair. She had taught me that men liked to unwrap women like presents, and the things they might expect me to do for them in private. I felt my face heat with blush at the remembrance of our conversations.

"Bring us both a shot of whiskey."

Nodding apprehensively, I backed into an adjacent table and nearly toppled to the floor. "Yes, sir."

As I turned and scurried away, I could hear the pale brothers arguing in hushed tones.

Victoria was waiting for me by the bar with her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"They said they'd like some whiskey."

"And?" Her foot tapped the floor impatiently. She wore a stern look across her painted face. "Did you mention your availability?"

"N-n-not yet. I asked if they'd like some company."

Victoria huffed and rolled her eyes. "If you want something done right . . ." She sighed in exasperation. "You stay here for now. I'll call you over if we reach an agreement."

With trembling hands, I focused on pouring the liquor into two shot glasses and placed them on a serving tray. In the smoked glass mirror behind the bar I watched Victoria, in all her feathered finery, negotiate my virginity away on the other side of the saloon. Every now and then she would throw her head back and cackle loudly. It was part of her act. She told me that men like to feel important and that I should always strive to make them the center of attention. She'd given me lessons because she expected me to continue working for her, at least until I had earned enough money to pay off my debt.

Or rather, my father's debt. He had left me in Miss Vicki's care while he traveled out west looking for work. He never returned. Miss Vicki had housed and fed me for months longer than my Paw had paid for, so she decided I would work for her to settle repayment. It turned out that she wasn't as nice a person as she had led us both to believe.

She had been parading me around for a week and a half, but no one had come up with the exorbitant amount that she was asking for the honor of being my first. It was a rare thing to find a virgin in a saloon, and even though she longed to be rid of me, Miss Vicki was aiming to hold out for top dollar.

Just then I was startled from my thoughts by another round of Vicki's raucous laughter and noticed her waving me over. "Bring the whole bottle, Bella. Drinks are on the house."

Making an effort not to stumble, I carried the tray over to the table.

She merrily grabbed the bottle and passed the drinks around.

I didn't want to drink the shot of whiskey she shoved into my hand, but felt obliged. The liquid flowed cool past my lips, but burned like fire all the way down my throat and heated my belly.

"It's all been settled! You can go pack up your things. Hell, you can even keep that dress," Victoria laughed.

I had never seen her in such a joyous mood. The whiskey had made my head spin and her words didn't make any sense. I didn't understand why she was telling me to pack. "I beg your pardon?"

She motioned with her hand as she introduced me to each of the pale men. "Jasper and Peter have paid your debt in full, and then some, to have you leave with them tonight."

"Them? Tonight?" I repeated the words, my mouth dry. "But I thought—"

Victoria cuffed her arm around my shoulder, pulled me into her bosom, and hissed into my ear. "_You_ aren't _my_ concern anymore. You go with them, and find a way to please them, because I don't give refunds." She dug her nails roughly into my side, before shoving me away. "Now go pack."

I nodded and made my way solemnly to my room to retrieve my scant belongings, all the while praying that these strange looking men would treat me kindly, or at least a bit better than Miss Vicki and James.

It didn't take long for me to collect my things, but by the time I had returned, the men had vanished. My breath hitched as I considered that they might have changed their minds. It was then that I realized how desperate I was to leave the saloon. Even being forced into the unknown was preferable to another one of James' brutal beatings.

"There you are, dear." Victoria's emerald eyes flashed with delight, as her painted lips spread over her teeth in a fake forced smile. She took my chin between her fingers and raised it, demanding I meet her gaze. "They went to fetch a carriage. Be sure to remember what I've taught you, and everything will be fine."

She pressed her lips together when she noticed the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes. "Don't start crying now. If they think you're unhappy they might bring you back and then I'd be forced to give you something to truly cry about." She pinched my chin so hard I was sure it would leave a mark. "Show me your smile."

I complied and managed a small awkward grin.

"Good," she said as she finally removed her fingers from my face.

"Miss Vicki, if my father returns—"

"He won't." Her voice sounded cold, hard, and resolute. She spoke with finality. "Go now. Don't keep them waiting, and do your best not to upset them, Bella. Remember what will happen to you if they bring you back."

As if I could ever forget any of her violent threats.

Just then a glossy black passenger coach pulled up beside the saloon and I fled into the darkness, relieved not to have to spend another moment in that horrid woman's presence.

It was well past the midnight hour, the late winter wind was frigid, and I had only a thin shawl to shield me from the cold. After handing my small suitcase to the driver, I stepped up to the waiting carriage. A large, pale hand, as cold as ice, reached out and helped me into the waiting cab.

"Sit here by me." It was the older brother, Jasper. His voice was deep and held authority. Despite my fear, I did as I was told. He let go of my hand, stood, and removed his long overcoat. He covered me with it as I took my place beside him on the bench. "You don't need to be afraid."

He must have noticed my trembling hand because I had worked hard not to let my nerves show. "Oh, I'm not—"

"You don't have to explain. We're used to it." The younger brother, who Victoria had introduced as Peter, removed his hat and ran his fingers through his chin length blonde hair. Then he removed his dark glasses.

"Oh!" I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his eyes. I had never seen anything so horrible before. Red. Even in the dim light of the carriage I could see them clearly. His eyes were strange, unnatural, the eyes of a devil. I forced myself to turn away, afraid he could peer into my very soul.

"You should have waited," Jasper growled, chastising his brother.

I covered my mouth to stifle a scream at the realization that he too must possess the same disturbing eyes, hidden behind the smoked glass lenses.

Peter shrugged it off, and leaned forward, even closer to me than he was before. "She was going to see eventually. Are you scared of me, darlin'? You don't have to be. I hope we can get acquainted real nice and proper."

Jasper reached over and placed his arm across my body in a protective gesture. "Stop scaring her." He lowered his voice then and then spoke soothingly and reassuringly. "I apologize for my brother, ma'am. He's always been uncouth and extremely forward when dealing with people concerning our condition."

_Their condition. Their terrible affliction._

They couldn't help the way they looked. All at once I felt horrible for reacting so badly to their obvious deformity.

Forcing myself to be brave, I lifted my eyes to Peter's face. If it weren't for the shocking color of his red eyes against his pale white skin, he would be considered strikingly handsome.

A strange calm feeling washed over me, and I attributed it to the whiskey I'd had earlier. I braced myself against the carriage wall fearing I might faint. Everything had happened so suddenly. My head began spinning with worrisome thoughts. _Would I be spending this night in bed with one of these men, or possibly both?_

"Is she all right?" Peter wondered aloud.

"Does she look all right to you?" Jasper snapped back, his voice laced with malice.

I felt his weight shift as he stood, muttered a few profanities at Peter, and then tapped on the roof of the cab to alert the driver.

From the corner of my eye I watched as he twisted his long, lean body halfway out the side window as he gave directions to the driver. For a moment he was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight and the sight took my breath away. Jasper was beautiful. His skin looked like porcelain, his hair like silk, and the line of his jaw was strong and masculine, much like the rest of his body.

I bit my lip as I wondered what his eyes looked like beneath the dark smoked lenses he wore. Could they be the same horrible red color, just like his brother's? I wanted to know, and wished that he'd remove his glasses, but even in the privacy of the carriage, he kept them on.

"We'll be staying at a hotel tonight, and tomorrow we will take you to our new home," Jasper explained.

It made me feel safer; somehow knowing that tonight I wouldn't be _entirely_ alone with them. Surely, they wouldn't be so brazen as to attack me in a hotel full of people. I nodded in understanding not knowing what to say.

"The driver will secure our rooms, but if anyone were to ask, we will say you are my wife, to avoid scandal."

"_Your_ wife?" I repeated. Until that moment it had been unclear which one of the brothers meant to rid me of my virginity. I hadn't been sure which one of them had paid for me, and I surely wasn't bold enough to ask. For all I knew they both meant to use me, but at least now I was pretty sure that I'd be spending tonight with Jasper.

From what I could tell, he seemed to be a gentleman. He had given me his overcoat, which showed that he had concern for my comfort. I buried myself down deeper under its warmth and breathed in its scent. His scent was clean and spicy, like some wonderful cologne. He certainly smelled better than any of the patrons I'd come across at Miss Vicki's bar. They usually smelt of stale sweat and sour whiskey.

It was then that I decided that I didn't care about his deformity, if he had strange red eyes or not. If he could show me the least bit of kindness, I'd do anything to please him, anything to keep him from taking me back to that horrible saloon.

The carriage lurched to a stop, and Jasper leapt out to speak with the driver.

"Your coat," I called after him. He was clothed only in a thin buttoned down shirt.

Peter moved and once again I was caught by the pull of his shocking red eyes. I froze, unable to speak or move or even have any coherent thoughts.

"You hold onto the coat, darlin'. The cold don't bother us."

We sat in silence, not taking our eyes off one another. He studied me as I studied him.

Finally, Jasper returned in a gruff mood and broke the tension. He shoved a key into his brother's hand, and then helped me down from the carriage.

The driver handed him my suitcase, and we made our way into the inn, and then down a short hallway to our rooms. Two rooms side by side. I realized that neither of them carried any luggage of their own. It was a good sign. Their house must not be too far from the saloon where they found me. I still hung on to a shred of hope that my father might return, and I wished to stay close to where he had left me, so that one day we might find each other again.

"Go wait in the room. I'll see to Bella," Jasper directed, and with a sharp nod, Peter was gone.

I shuddered as the door closed with a click. It seemed things had been decided.

We were alone in the room and it was dark, apart from the light of a small oil lamp that sat on a bedside table.

I wracked my brain, trying to recall Miss Vicki's lessons on how to please a man, but all I could think of was how scared I was. Afraid of the act itself and doubly afraid that he'd find me completely lacking, and rush me back to the saloon come morning.

His cold hands wrapped around my shoulders as he helped me out of his overcoat. "Go get ready for bed."

I could feel his eyes watching me from behind his dark glasses, and I'm sure, to him, I must have appeared to be insane. I flitted to my suitcase, and then decided not to open it. I trudged over to the wash basin, nearly knocking it over, as I attempted to wash my face with trembling hands. And there it was again, a feeling of calm. Like the eye of a storm. In that moment of clarity I became resolved. This was my situation, my fate, and like it or not, I had to accept it. Accept him.

I made my way to the bed, pulled down the coverlet, and laid down. My fists clenched to my sides, my eyes clamped shut.

After a moment I felt the bed dip down beside me under his weight, and then his hand brushed my cheek.

I dared not open my eyes.

"You _are_ a virgin, aren't you?" His voice was filled with awe as he marveled at me.

It was obvious he hadn't completely believed Miss Vicki's claims, and I couldn't blame him.

"Open your eyes, dear one."

Despite my warring nerves, I managed to fulfill his request.

He was smiling at me, but the curl of his lips hinted at sadness. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

"Tell me what?"

"We told Miss Vicki we were taking you with us to be our housekeeper."

"H-h-housekeeper?"

He nodded. "We didn't buy you for pleasure. Our appearance makes it hard to find and keep good help. Everyone is under the assumption that we're cursed. My brother and I felt appalled at your situation and hoped that you might consider working for us for a few months, in exchange for the payment of your debt. We know it's not proper, but we thought it might be preferable to being used by the drunkards in that dreadful saloon."

I nearly jumped out of the bed as I sat up in excitement. "Oh, sir! She didn't tell me. I would be honored to work for you and your brother."

"I'm sure Victoria didn't believe us. That must be why she didn't tell you our plans. We assumed you needed help. I want to know how a sweet girl like you found herself in such a predicament, but not tonight. Go to sleep now. I'll be staying next door with my brother, if you need anything. In the morning, if conditions are favorable, we will ride to our new home. There will be plenty of work for you there, as we have not yet finished moving in.

"Yes sir." I nodded happily and sighed in relief. "I'm a hard worker. I won't disappoint you."

He paused, his hand on the door knob. "I'm sure you won't. Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, sir, and thank you."

With a small bow he was gone, and for the first night in months, I was able to get some restful sleep.

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><p><strong>Yet another AN: My buddy GeezerWench has been nominated in the TwiFic Fandom Awards. **

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I forgot to thank the folks who favorited and followed last time. And then I realized that some of you might have been hoping for a new previously unreleased chapter. Here you go! Don't forget to re-favorite or follow for future updates. I lost all of that when I removed the story around a month or so ago. It won't happen again! Part of the reason I took the story down was that I was worried that readers might be put off by the historical aspect of the story. Part of what I like about vampires happens to be the way that they live forever. Let me know if you'd like the epilogue for this story to be set in modern times. I have plenty of ideas ;)**

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><p>The next morning when I awoke, I was startled to find Peter sitting in the armchair in my room, grinning from ear to ear.<p>

"Oh!" I fumbled around in my bed sheets before finally regaining my composure and remembering where I was.

He laughed deeply. The sound echoed from his belly and seemed to shake me all the way down to my toes.

My face flushed. "I'm glad you find me so amusing. Is terrifying people a hobby of yours?" I refused to look at him, even though I knew he was wearing his dark glasses. "If I overslept, you could have awakened me."

"Don't be cross with me, honey. I didn't mean to scare you, and I dared not wake a sleeping angel. Just came in to bring you your vittles." With a flourish he lifted the domed metal lid from a plate I hadn't even noticed on the bedside table. There were heaps of scrambled eggs and ham and crusty whole wheat rolls.

It smelled heavenly, and I was famished. The food Vicki served at the saloon was barely tolerable. I hadn't seen such a fine spread since before my father left. Bowing my head gratefully, I managed to mumble. "Thank you, sir."

"You should call me Peter from here on out. I'd like it if we could be on a first name basis." He stretched out his long legs as he sat back down in the armchair.

I could feel him watching me again, and it was a bit unsettling. His request, only mildly improper, was something I would be happy to oblige.

"We're going to ride out to our new place today. Jasper has gone to fetch the horses. Are you proficient in the saddle?"

I looked up at him to find that he had gone over to stand by the window. My mouth was full of food, but I shook my head no.

His smile grew impossibly wider. "Then you shall ride with me."

I could tell that the idea pleased him, and the smug look on his face showed that he was a bit of a scoundrel. Even though Peter seemed to be pleasant, he worried me a bit.

I had never had someone watch me eat before. It was exceedingly unnerving. He stayed close but didn't say a thing, so finally I attempted to make pleasant conversation, if only to break the tension of being scrutinized. "The food is very good. Would you like some?"

"Oh, no. I already ate."

"You should have awakened me sooner. I can't remember ever sleeping so late before. I hope I haven't held up your schedule."

"No. We're right on time. I almost woke you up a couple of times, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. You were just so cozy looking, lying there like sleeping beauty."

Peter managed to embarrass me once again, and I decided polite conversation was overrated and focused on eating my breakfast.

When Jasper arrived a few minutes later, I couldn't help but to feel relieved. He seemed to be able to keep his younger brother in line. There was a quiet intensity about him. It was clear that he was a serious man, in stark contrast to Peter's boyish levity.

We made our way outside and approached the three horses Jasper had brought for us.

"Bella said she wanted to ride with me." Peter lied, and I didn't correct him because before I could blink, he was lifting me onto the largest horse I'd ever seen.

I could tell that Jasper was a bit disappointed by something, possibly that he had wasted money on renting three horses when he only needed two, but he secured my valise to the second horse and then mounted the white one without saying a word.

"Wrap your arms around me as tight as you want, honey. I won't let you fall." Peter patted my hand and gave me a little grin over his shoulder before he clucked his tongue and urged our horse into a walk.

It was only a rolling amble but the animal's lazy gait made me feel unstable. I gasped in fear and secured my arms firmly about his waist.

Peter thought it was hilarious and laughed loudly. "Jumpy little thing aren't ya'? How 'bout once we pass those trees, we find out how fast this horse can run?"

"No! Please, no!" I nearly shouted and then buried my face into the back of Peter's coat.

"I bet this horse is much faster than Jasper's"

"Stop it, Pete!" Jasper's voice rang deep with authority.

I berated myself for not being able to ride solo. At least then I would have had some semblance of control.

Peter continued on with his taunts, which he now aimed at his brother. "Jasper is just mad because he doesn't like to lose. He's always been a sore loser."

"If you don't stop your nonsense this moment, you'll soon be the sore one," Jasper growled.

I felt Peter's ribs expand under my grasp as he huffed in resignation. "My brother is no fun at all, Bella. You knew I was only foolin', right?"

"Yes," I fibbed. The reality was that I hadn't been sure of anything since my father had left me months ago.

The day was cool and cloudy, late winter on the cusp of spring. It was a pleasant day to travel.

We rode down one trail and then turned by a creek onto another less traveled one that led us through a small forest.

When Peter wasn't trying to scare me, he could be quite charming. He eventually engaged me in conversation, asking me about my predicament, and I told them the whole story about how my father had left me at the saloon, and then never returned . . . gone missing. Jasper listened intently as Peter asked more and more questions.

"After we get settled in, Peter was planning on going to retrieve some of our furniture and other belongings," Jasper explained. "He might be able to ask around and find out where your father went or what might have happened to him."

My heart sank at the thought that something_ had _happened to my father, but I needed to know. At least then I might have a sense of closure.

Peter turned and cut his eyes at his brother in annoyance.

I was sure he had better things to do than search out my missing father. "Please don't bother yourself on my account, but if you happen to hear anything—anything at all—it would mean so much to me."

He looked back at me and his face relaxed. "It would be my honor to help find your paw. I was just put out with the way Jasper offered me up for the job when he knew I'd much rather stay with you and get acquainted, but since it means so much to you, I'll do my best to find out anything I can while I'm off picking up our things. Furthermore, I'm going to bring back a pretty new dress, and more bows for your hair, and whatever else your lil' heart desires," he said, seeming pleased by his idea.

"Please don't buy anything for me." I reached up and removed the ugly pink bow from my hair. "Especially hair bows." Miss Vicki had said it made my plain brown locks more enticing. I let it fall to the ground. "I'm already indebted to you both for taking me from that horrible place. I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"I can think of a few ways." Peter gave me one of his scandalous looks over his shoulder.

"Peter H. Whitlock," Jasper bellowed. "As soon as we get to the cabin, we are going to have a _talk_."

Something about the way he said_ talk_ made me think that Jasper meant to do harm to his brother. He looked absolutely ferocious, and it was clear that he was not a man to be trifled with.

"He always thinks poorly of me, Bella. I meant no disrespect with my comment. I was only talkin' about all the socks I have that need mendin'. When you see all the work we have for you to do you just might throw up your arms and run screaming through the front door. My mother always wondered how a boy, that possessed only two feet, could create so many holes in his socks."

Peter's gaze focused far away as he spoke of his family. It led me to wonder whether or not their home was close to this new cabin they'd acquired. I guessed not. They spoke with an accent that told they were from the Deep South. Their speech was proud and deliberate, yet slow as if it had been bathed in molasses. I couldn't help but wonder if these men had been displaced by the terrible war. They looked too young to have fought in it, but their father would have certainly been of age. "Do you have family living in the area?"

"No, ma'am." It was Jasper that answered. "They're all gone. We came from Texas, but our condition makes us sensitive to the sun, so we found ourselves here up North in Colorado. We've had a bit of luck in mining and made a small fortune. The cabin we shall be staying in is close to our most newly acquired mine. It belonged to the previous owner, and I'm afraid he left behind quite a mess."

I was so glad to be free of Miss Vicki and James that I'd kiss the floor of that cabin, no matter how filthy, but as it turned out, the cabin wasn't at all as dirty as I'd imagined. It was just full of things. The previous owner had left all of his personal belongings behind—his clothes, gun, and even a fully stocked pantry.

As I rifled through the kitchen thinking about what I'd make for lunch, Jasper stood at the open door looking out into the forest.

"Bella."

"Yes, sir?"

"Peter and I are going to step outside for a quick discussion before he leaves. Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Stay inside."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there my Jasper lovin' peeps!**

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><p>It was hard to feel at home in the dusty little kitchen, but I looked forward to preparing a meal, even though there wasn't any cured meat to be found in the pantry.<p>

There was enough food to last us a week, including plenty of potatoes. I picked through the bag and set aside the rotten ones, then turned to look for the skillets, and found them hanging on nails that had been hammered into the rough-hewn beams of the cabin's walls.

Just as I reached for the larger of two cast iron pans, outside there was a crash so loud and forceful that it shook the whole house. The floor trembled beneath my feet, and I feared the whole place might collapse around me.

I rushed to the door and had my hand around the little brass knob before I remembered Jasper's warning to stay inside.

Another crash that sounded like a falling tree echoed through the forest. I put my ear to the door and heard the squall of what must have been wildcats fighting in the distance.

I stumbled over to the small window on the side of the cabin and tried to wipe away the filth and grime to see outside.

My blood ran cold in fear at the thought that those yowling animals could have gotten a hold of the brothers somehow. Their shrill cries sounded far away, but I couldn't be sure how close they might be to the cabin.

My eyes lifted to the blue-grey metal of the shot-gun that rested above the front door. I had never handled one before, but the mechanics of it seemed simple enough.

I dashed into the kitchen and retrieved a chair, then hauled it over to the front door to use as a stepping stool. Praying the gun was loaded, I cautiously lowered it. With trembling hands, I opened the chamber, found the gun was already loaded, and murmured my praise to the Lord.

If something had attacked the brothers and harmed them in any way, I would be horrified, but would try my best to aid them with what little doctoring I could offer. The thought of having to walk back to town alone for help through a forest filled with dangerous creatures made me weak in the knees, but I'd do it for them, if necessary.

I opened the door, just a crack, and saw that the horses were gone. In the distance the crashing continued.

"Mr. Whitlock?" I called out to either brother, as I gripped the shot-gun with sweaty palms. "Are you out here?"

There came no reply, only the caterwauling cries of the mountain cats sparing in the distance.

Worried that those lions might be making a meal of the brothers, I walked out past the cover of the porch, pointed the barrel at the bright blue sky, and pulled the trigger of the old gun.

It went off, the blast so loud it rattled my teeth, so powerful, I nearly toppled to the ground.

The forest went silent, and I called for the brothers once again before nervously stumbling back into the safety of the cabin and barring the door.

Moments later, I was startled by a knock. Someone was out there. "W-w-who is it?" I stuttered.

"It's Jasper. Open the door."

I let out a great sigh of relief as I unbarred the door and swung it open for him to enter, but at the sight of him, I went tense again.

He was bent over clutching his dirt-smudged coat closed about his middle. Shredded, tattered ribbons of what had once been his fine silk shirt fluttered from the coat's gap at his chest.

"What happened?" I shrieked and my hands trembled nervously as they reached to check him over of their own volition. "Where is Peter? Is he–"

"He's fine. He's gone to collect our things," Jasper ground out tersely and pushed by me, walking swiftly towards the bedroom. He tore open the chest-of-drawers and rifled through the previous cabin owner's belongings, angrily tossing things onto the floor.

"There's some whiskey in the kitchen. I'll go fetch it, and help clean up your wounds."

The sound of my voice startled him. He froze, then slowly turned around and our eyes met.

It was then that I realized his smoked-lens glasses had gone missing, and I found myself lost in his gaze. His eyes were red, like his brother's, but they didn't scare me. They drew me closer, somehow, like a moth drawn to a flame.

With one look, I realized that Jasper was completely different from his brother. Behind the deep crimson of Jasper's eyes I saw a man who had seen much pain, someone who had suffered and was suffering still. He was full of secrets, as deep and mysterious as the ocean.

I had no time to unravel the complex web of feelings his gaze evoked in me. Jasper had been injured and I needed to tend to him.

His brows knit together, and the look on his face relayed that something was wrong. I had never seen a man go into shock before, but it seemed that Jasper had lost his bearings.

"You need to lie down." I put my arm around him and ushered him to the bed. "I heard a great commotion in the forest. Was it a wild cat that attacked you? Let me have a look at your wounds." I fired off questions as he made his way over to the bed slowly and sat on its edge, his arms still wrapped firmly about his middle.

"I'm not hurt," he murmured.

I didn't see any blood, but seeing how badly his shirt had been torn, I feared he'd been damaged. Even a scratch left untreated could become infected and fester. Peter had gone and taken the horses with him. Until he returned there would be no way to fetch a doctor. "Please, just let me have a look."

Jasper swallowed deeply and pushed himself back on the bed farther away from me, as if he were trying to escape my inspection. "I told you not to go outside."

"I didn't know what to do," I shouted at him in frustration. "I only stepped out past the porch and fired off a shot, hoping to scare off whatever creature was out there attacking you. Do you realize I might have helped to save your life?"

His lips pressed together in a sad looking smile, and he stared at me with those hauntingly mysterious eyes. "There's no need to worry over me, Bella."

But worry I did. I pushed his hands aside and his jacket fell open revealing his ragged shirt, and beneath it his skin, pale and perfect—his flesh unmarred.

I ran my hand over his abdomen with disbelief. He didn't have a scratch on him. Not a new scratch anyway. There were scars, many of them, small and silvery.

"Satisfied?" He asked his voice now thick and gravely and full of longing. It was obvious that my gentle touch had aroused him.

I jerked my hands away in embarrassment.

He leaned forward and took my face between the large, cool palms of his hands. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice soft but rough with seduction.

I thought he meant to kiss me and found it hard to keep my eyes open. He caressed me gently, his hands ran down the sides of my arms, and he pulled me closer to him.

I felt his desire pressing into my thigh and his breath soft and sweet against my cheek, and I was powerless to stop him. I felt totally exposed and at his mercy, and I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted it badly. Raising my arms to encircle his neck, I melted into him, but his lips never touched mine. Instead, the passion that I was sure I'd seen in his heated gaze, fizzled away and he spoke the words, _"I can't."_

Not having any experience with men, I figured I had done something wrong regardless of all the _lessons_ Victoria had tried to beat into my head. I blinked in confusion, then jumped from his lap in mortification. Needing to put some space between us, I bustled away, scorned and humiliated, into the kitchen, all the while wishing that whatever had attacked Jasper in the forest had done a more thorough job of assaulting him. My anger was directed towards him, but it was I that had been a fool, throwing myself at him like a wanton woman.

"I seem to have misplaced my spectacles. I'm going to go out and look for them."

His deep voice seemed to calm my anger and beg forgiveness, without actually saying the words.

"Fine," I muttered not bothering to turn around, not wanting to see his face, not wanting him to see the hurt and feelings of rejection portrayed on my own.

"I'll fetch some fresh water on the way back." He waited in the doorway, unmoving. "I feel the need to apologize."

"Don't. It was nothing." I turned in an attempt to appear unaffected, but flushed red at the sight of him leaning against the door frame. He was wearing a shirt that must have been three sizes too small. The long sleeves stopped halfway down his forearms, and the buttons strained across his broad, muscular chest. He looked utterly ridiculous and entirely appealing all at the same time. "Let's just act as if it never happened."

He strode over to my station beside the sink. It only took him three steps and he was there, painfully close, almost pressing against me once again. "I wanted to kiss you, Bella. More than anythin', but I'd given Pete my word that I wouldn't. He fancies you just as much as I do, and I owe him so much." Jasper got a faraway look as his gaze slid from mine, his face etched in sadness. He lifted his head as his darkened eyes returned to mine. "We're no good for you Bella, remember that," he said—the warning ringing clearly.

He turned abruptly and left me there, alone in the kitchen, completely baffled and confused, with not much else to do but ponder the meaning behind what he'd said.

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	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, Hello! And Happy Thanksgiving! Today it's really rainy and cold here. Maybe you guys will read this chapter on the way to Grandma's house, or if you're the one hosting, between candying the yams and slicing up that gelled cranberry sauce that's shaped like the can it pops out of. (I love that stuff)**

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><p>Both of the brothers <em>fancied<em> me?

I didn't know whether to feel flattered or appalled.

They had paid my debt to Miss Vicki, and hadn't taken advantage of me thus far, but what was it they really wanted?

I suspected that their interest went just a bit farther than my housekeeping skills, or my sewing abilities, although Jasper did seem extremely grateful when I was able to quickly alter two shirts into one, so that he would have something to wear that fit him correctly.

Over the next few days, any concerns I had about being taking advantage of were proven to be pointless. Jasper comported himself like a perfect gentleman. He woke early every morning and seemed eager to help with the endless chore of cleaning the cabin. He had plenty of strength and energy, despite his ailment and pallid complexion.

In fact, he was as strong as an ox. He insisted on doing all the heavy lifting, and I watched, in awe, as he single-handedly carried the heavy mattresses outside, without breaking a sweat, so that I could clean them. He even took charge of hauling fresh water in from the spring whenever it was needed.

We didn't make much conversation, but I never felt as if anything were lacking. It almost seemed as if he were purposefully giving me space, out of respect.

I think that our almost kiss had rattled and shocked him, just as much as it had affected me.

Over the next few days, we fell into a companionable routine. He spent a lot of time alone working, looking over hand-drawn maps. I assumed they were of his property or the mine the brothers owned and writing things down in ledgers and journals.

Sometimes he would take the gun and go hunting in the surrounding forest, which worried me to no end. He managed to bring back a few rabbits once, but his hunts were mostly unsuccessful. It wasn't surprising. Because of his strange ailment he was forced to spend a lot of time indoors, but Jasper was seemingly well adjusted to his lifestyle.

He spoke to me about the mine, and the workers that kept it running. The brothers only had to check in every so often with the foreman, they didn't mine the silver themselves. They had plenty of money, and were only staying at the little cabin because of it's proximity to their most newly acquired property.

I often wondered if I would be needed when they traveled back to their main place of residence and when that would happen, but I never asked.

Jasper liked to take his meals alone, but would sit with me in front of the fire before bedtime. Each of us would take turns reading to each other from dime novels, that the previous owner of the cabin had left behind, and then we would go to sleep in separate bedrooms.

Sometimes I would lie awake in bed and wonder what it would be like to be married to a man like Jasper, and with each passing day, the idea seemed more and more appealing.

On our third night alone in the cabin, Jasper was reading a passage from a story about a young lady who had a ridiculous number of suitors, some young, some old, one was very virtuous, another was very forward. I found myself musing over the heroine's complicated decision of choosing the right husband for herself. I envied her and lamented the fact that I'd never entertained a gentleman caller and probably never would.

The story was simple, yet entertaining, but Jasper had plainly tired of the frivolous girl after only the first chapter. Still he read on, his deep rich voice and the crackling fire lulled me into a state of relaxation.

I had been watching his lips move as he recited the words on the page, all the while wishing that he _had_ kissed me. I wished he had acted more like the overconfident suitor in our book and just said to hell with morality, and taken what he had wanted.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, as he gifted me with a crooked smile, nodded his head, and closed the book. "I think that's enough reading for tonight. Don't you?"

He was wearing those dark glasses again. I couldn't see his eyes, nor could I imagine how he was able to decipher the words on the page by lamplight while wearing them.

My mind still halfway on our story, I thought of Peter, who reminded me of a certain character in the book. "When will your brother return?" I blurted without thought, and the smile fell from his lips.

"Soon, I expect."

"Tell me about him."

Jasper got up and placed the book on the mantle over the fireplace. The flicker of flame threw dark shadows over his heavy countenance. "What would you like to know?"

"Is it . . . I mean, am I expected . . ." I fumbled over my words and felt my face heat with embarrassment. "Does he expect me to _marry_ him?"

"No!"

The word came out with a force that left me reeling, and Jasper didn't try to explain himself. He just stood there hesitant, his brow furrowed, staring into the fire looking for answers that weren't there.

He had managed to burn me again, and I wasn't sure how or why I felt so scorned. Was I not good enough for him _or_ his brother? I stood from my chair, clutching the thin afghan I had laid across my lap to my chest, as if it could shield me from the coldness I felt in the room that had nothing to do with the late winter chill of the night.

I turned my back to Jasper to walk out of the room, but I stopped, unable to move. _What was I waiting for? _A myriad of thoughts swam round and round in my muddled mind as Jasper made his way over to where I stood, still feeling hurt, confused, and angry. He gently placed his hands about my shoulders.

He had made me feel so foolish. I wanted to spin around, snatch the glasses he hid behind from his face, and demand an explanation. Tears prickled threateningly at the corners of my eyes, and my throat began to close up. "Y-y-you said before that Peter fancied me. It's the only reason I asked."

"No. I said we _both_ fancied you." Jasper sighed heavily. "But it hardly matters. Peter and I have an agreement where you are concerned, neither of us will compromise you, but to make doubly sure Peter up holds his end of the bargain, I'm beginning to think it would be a good idea to remove you from our employ."

I turned then to face him, and blinked in disbelief. "That's up to you, of course, but you must realize that I've already been compromised. You found me at the saloon, Mr. Whitlock. Do you know how many of the men in town saw me working inside that godforsaken place, and what they must think of me? I have no place to go and not a cent to my name. The only hope I have is to take charity from the likes of you and your brother, who find me decent enough to scrub your floors, but obviously not good enough to marry."

He shook me with enough force to knock me over if he hadn't been holding on to me with a steady, firm grasp. "It's not _you_, you damned foolish girl! It is _we_ who are cursed! Our kind doesn't marry. Our kind doesn't love, or hope, or dream of a future with anyone. Don't you see?" His voice came out rough and ragged, as if the words had been dragged over the fires of hell. "And if we dared dream of such things, do you know who would pay the price?"

Lifting my chin and refusing to shrink away, I pressed against his chest until he released me. "I don't see anything wrong with you, Jasper, except how for how you see yourself. I know you're different and angry for it, but you can't change it. The only thing you could change is your attitude."

He froze then. It was as if he'd gone and turned to stone. His lips were pressed tightly together, and it seemed that he had forgotten how to breathe. The look on his face was that of a man who needed reassurance, of one who was lost.

"If you want my opinion, as far as I can tell, I think you'd make a fine husband."

He exhaled finally, and I felt him shudder as he dropped his hands to his sides and walked towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I need to take a walk," he replied as he flung open the door.

"But, it's not safe out there, and dark. You won't be able to find your way back without a lantern."

He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "It's not safe in here either. For you." He blew out a heavy breath. "You're driving me mad with temptation."

Blushing at the intensity of his voice, I clutched the afghan around me more tightly as the cold wind pushed its way into the cabin. "If you must go, at least take the gun with you."

"I'll be close. Do _not _come outside, and don't wait up for me. Go get some sleep." He walked out then and slammed the door behind him.

Part of me wanted to hurl something against the closed door in protest, while another part wanted to rejoice at the thought that I had stirred something within Jasper. Instead I decided to lie down in bed and stay awake to listen and pray for his return. Minutes turned into hours and my eyes became heavy with sleep. I woke in the morning to the sound of not one, but two voices coming from the kitchen.

I washed up before making my way into the room where the brothers stood talking. Jasper seemed to be in the same foul mood that I'd left him in the night before. In fact he seemed worse—at times pacing back and forth like a caged beast. Peter managed to smile at me. His left hand casually rested on his hip, while the right hand held what appeared to be a newspaper. The air felt heavy with tension, but I tried to lighten the mood with a cheerful, "Good morning."

It was then that I noticed the piles of supplies and parcels Peter had purchased in town. Before I could thank him or even ask what they'd like for breakfast, Jasper stopped pacing, gave his brother an ill-tempered glance, and cleared his throat to get my attention. "Unfortunately, Peter has brought with him some unsettling news, and it appears I must leave you both for a few days."

"Unsettling? I hope it's nothing serious." Not wanting to pry, I decided to change the subject. "Oh, Peter, did you hear anything about my father?"

"No, no one I asked seemed to recollect seeing your father. I'm sorry, honey, and don't worry your pretty little head over Jasper going away. I'll stay here and I promise to take real good care of you while he's gone. We'll have lots of fun," Peter smiled widely.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Jasper mumbled.

"Pshaw." Peter waved his hand in dismissal of his brother and pulled out a chair to sit down at the table. "Now, here is an interesting piece of news for ya'." He spread the paper out before him, and I had to hold onto the table to steady myself as I read the bold headline. _Fire at the Golden Eagle Saloon._ The wretched place I'd been imprisoned had burned to the ground.

"I can't believe it. Were there many people hurt?" I wondered.

"Oh, yes." Peter nodded. "Miss Vicki didn't make it. It says right here she burned to death."

"How horrible," I murmured as I turned the paper around so I could read it better.

"I do hope you're not very upset to hear it." Peter reached up touched my back which caused me to jump. He smiled reassuringly and began to rub small soothing circles between my shoulder blades.

"No, I'm not _terribly_ upset—you see she was a horrid woman. I'm just trying to see if I recognize any of the other names of the deceased." It was only a half-truth. I was honestly scanning the page in hopes of finding James' name on the list of those who had perished.

After I was done reading, Peter folded the paper and set it on a chair. "Did you know any of the other victims, Bella?"

"No." Emotions warred inside me. I didn't know how to reconcile the fact that I was glad Miss Vicki was gone, and my good Christian upbringing that taught me feeling that way was wrong. If that wasn't bad enough, I found myself brooding over the fact that James hadn't burned alongside her.

Regardless of how I felt, I knew better than to ever tell Jasper and Peter about the cruel beatings James had given me. He was an extremely evil man, and I wouldn't risk the chance that the brothers might attempt to approach someone so callous and dangerous. They could be injured. No, they must never know the truth of what I'd been through.

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Please be sure you read chapter 4 first . . . I posted two chapters today.**

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><p>Still lost in my own thoughts about my dismal time at the saloon, I barely noticed Jasper slip out the front door until he slammed it closed, and the sound shocked me back into the present.<p>

With wide and questioning eyes I glanced over to Peter, who looked quite relaxed. He was stretched out, leaning back in his chair, which was propped precariously on one leg, his boot heels rested on the table, his hands clasped behind his head.

Then came the sound of angry, stomping footfalls out on the porch, and the door swung forcefully open again. Jasper reappeared and pointed angrily at his brother. His jaw was tight with tension. "You best behave yourself, Pete," he warned. "And you need to stay put in this cabin. I don't want to have to search through hell and high-water when I get back, but I will if I have to." He turned to look at me then, his anger melting away. "I'm truly sorry about all of this, Bella. I swear I'll be back as soon as possible."

"You needn't worry," Peter grinned. "I shall protect this young lady—mind, spirit, and virtue. You have my word as a gentleman."

With a final frigid glare shot straight at Peter, Jasper slammed the door again, rattling all the windows.

"Where is he going?" I whispered, unsure I should even be asking.

Peter sat his chair back down on all four legs. "To our former residence, where I just came from."

"Oh." I nodded. It made sense then as to why Jasper hadn't collected anything to take with him on his journey.

"I'm sure you must be curious about why he left in such a hurry." Peter buffed his nails across his vest and then stared at them, waiting for my response.

"Well, it was rather strange. I do hope everything's all right."

"You see, when I went to go collect our things, someone came by looking for Jasper. He had a caller."

I stared at Peter willing him to say more. He was being coquettish and taking his time revealing his information. It felt as if he were enjoying the situation and found humor in making me wait as long as possible before giving me any actual details.

"A caller?" I asked, wanting him to continue.

"Yes, and Jasper would be cross with me for telling you about it, so I'd like to keep it secret. Can you keep a secret, Angel?"

I nodded and leaned forward, eager to learn more about Jasper. Anything about him would intrigue me, for I knew so little about him. He seemed to be so guarded, quiet, and full of secrets.

"Her name is Maria," Peter finally confided.

My face fell and my heart sank. Jasper already had a woman. I berated myself for being so foolish as to believe his speech about being cursed, and not loving, or hoping, or dreaming.

"She's a mean, nasty lil' thing," Peter made a face. "A Mexican and a widow as well. She was quite angry with Jasper. You see, he left her without even saying goodbye."

"Ah." Things were beginning to make sense to me now.

"Why do you look so glum, honey?" Peter leaned forward and covered one of my hands with his own. "My brother didn't try to steal any kisses from you while you were here alone with him, did he?"

"No. He made it quite clear he wasn't interested in me at all actually." At the remembrance of Jasper's refusals, I started to feel as though I might cry. "In fact, his exact words were something along the lines of _removing me from his employ_."

"That scallywag will do nary a thing because I have decided to court you. If you would be agreeable to it, that is."

I looked up into his red eyes that seemed to sparkle with joyful anticipation. He looked so hopeful; I could hardly refuse his offer. "Will it anger your brother?"

"Oh, yes, I expect him to be livid, but I've already bought you some courting gifts, would you like to see them?"

"Yes, please," I stood up from the table and bit my lip as I watched him shift some things around on the counter, and felt excited to see whatever it was Peter had brought me. It had been a very long time since I'd received a present. He produced three very large packages wrapped in brown paper and tied up with string. "These are all for me?"

"All for you," He said proudly as he stood back and watched as I ripped open the first one.

I gingerly removed a beautifully embroidered leather corset and a bustle made of curved wire. I blinked; slack jawed at the intimacy of the gifts as I held them up and studied them not knowing what to say.

"Those go with the dress I got ya'. I suppose you should have opened the other box first. Here. Let's try this one." He tore open another package and out spilled the fabric of a dress.

It was satin and velvet in a color that reminded me of eggplant. It was the most beautiful dress I'd ever laid eyes on.

He ran his fingers over the smooth fabric and smiled. "I can't wait to see how it looks on ya. Why don't you go try it on now?"

"I love it, Peter. I've never had anything so fine. I-I-I scarcely know where I'd even wear something like this. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, just go try it on." He ushered me into my room and handed me all the packages, including the unopened one. "This one here is a day-dress, but I want to see the purple one first."

After setting everything down, it took me quite a long time to put everything on. Even though corsets and bustles were the height of fashion, I'd never actually worn such fancy things.

When I finally got the dress on, I didn't know exactly what to think. I felt beautiful and sensual and exposed all at the same time. The neckline of the garment swooped down low in the front and back, and seemed to hang precariously on my shoulders. Never in my life had I ever worn a dress that exposed my bosoms. Scant as they were, the corset seemed to give the illusion that they were more voluptuous in their volume.

I couldn't have Peter gawking at my front or back, so I threw on a shawl and stepped out of the room to seek his approval. As I made my way back into the kitchen, my face burning with blush and modesty, I could hardly raise my gaze to meet his, so I studied the wooden floor boards waiting for his appraisal.

He took slow measured steps as he approached, then placed his fingers up under my chin and forced me to look up at him.

When our eyes met, I gasped, taken aback, for his eyes were black as nightfall. As I stumbled back he caught me, and held me firmly by the wrists, keeping me on my feet.

Slowly, he raised one of my wrists to his face and inhaled deeply, as he closed his eyes and kissed the palm of my trembling hand. A deep, masculine sound forced its way out of his throat before he exhaled the words, "_You're breathtaking._"

My heart pounded against my ribs.

"The only problem is, that shawl doesn't quite match this dress." He spoke softly, seductively into my ear as he rounded my side and stepped behind me, peeling the thin veil of fabric from my shoulders as he went.

His sweet cool breath caressed my neck and caused a shiver to run through me, from my head to my toes. I didn't want him to remove the shawl that covered me from his eyes, but felt frozen in place, unable to protest. Fear and a passion warred within my body. Not fear of the man, but a fear of rejection.

He paused when he saw the top part of my back exposed to him.

I felt him and the air around us go still as I waited to gauge his reaction to my scars.

"Who did this to you?"

The seduction was gone from his voice but another shiver coursed through my body, this time from the deathly chill of anger in his tone.

I clamped my eyes shut, unable to speak. I couldn't bear to see if he had a look of disgust over his handsome face. James had told me that no one would want me. He meant to make sure anyone I was with knew that I was damaged goods.

"Was it that red-headed bitch at the saloon?" Peter's face was serious. He stood in front of me with his hands on my shoulders, awaiting an answer.

"Please don't turn me out," I begged, my voice rough with emotion as I fought to hold back my tears.

He took a step back, crossed his arms, and stared at me as if I had lost my mind.

"I have no place to go."

He squinted his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "What makes you think I'd turn you out?"

"Now that you've seen my ugly scars, you won't want to court me anymore, and Jasper already said he plans to let me go."

Peter scoffed as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and pressed the material aside. He too was scarred, just like his brother. The marks were hard to make out, but they were there, small and silvery on his smooth, firm chest.

"Just like Jasper's." I gasped, and without thinking I reached over to touch his oddly pale, cool skin.

Peter raised an eyebrow. "So . . . You've been studying my brother beneath his clothing?"

His question sounded a bit like an accusation, causing me to jerk my hand away.

"I only happened to see his scars when he came in from the forest our first day here. Just after you left, he was attacked by a wild cat, and his shirt was torn to shreds. I couldn't help but see."

"A wild cat?" Peter smirked as he re-buttoned his shirt. "Is that what he told ya'?"

"Yes."

"And you believed him?"

I paused to think back about that day, and I couldn't actually remember what Jasper had said, if anything, about the incident.

Peter sighed with impatience and led me over to the table, willing me to sit down. "My dear, you have nothing to fear. I promise you a home with me as long as you wish, and I swear that Jasper will never throw you out. But Bella, I _must_ know who harmed you this instant."

"It was a man named James. I don't even know his full name. He was Miss Vicki's lover."

"I'll kill him."

"Peter, no."

"Why not?"

"You could get hurt or killed or put in jail, that's why." I felt silly explaining such things to a man older than myself, but he'd asked for an explanation.

Peter huffed, obviously still angry and disturbed. "Did he harm you in any other way? Are you scarred all over? It doesn't matter to me, I still want to court you, but I must know."

"He only beat me. I was whipped across my back. He didn't harm me in any other way, but he wanted to. Miss Vicki was so jealous, because he fancied me, that she told him to scar me. She watched him do it, and the whole time she yelled at him to lash me until he'd satisfied his urges. I was glad to hear she'd died in that fire. I only wish James had burned right alongside her." As I confessed, my eyes welled with tears, and I began to sob in despair.

Peter knelt down before me and handed me his handkerchief. "Don't cry, Honey. Everything is gonna be all right from here on out."

Somehow, I believed him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Friends! Hope you are all doing well today. :)**

**Here's a new chapter! GeezerWench did a great job pre-reading this. It was a mess, and I picked at it a bit after she pre-read, so any mistakes are my own doing.**

**Hope you are all staying safe and warm this Winter!**

**I'm still waiting on one of you to offer me the chateau at your beach estate, so that I might write in a more suitable climate.**

**;)**

**I'm kidding, but not really kidding if you happen to be independently wealthy and live in the tropics.**

**:D**

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><p>The day seemed to fly by, and then came the next. Peter was much more sociable than his brother, and exceedingly charming, at least when he wasn't sneaking up and scaring the dickens out of me.<p>

It seems as though when you put yourself in a precarious position, someone inevitably always finds out, and I must admit that he caught me red handed.

On our second day together, after sharing a light lunch, Peter excused himself from the table to do some work outside around the cabin. One of the horses he had brought back with him had broken the corral gate, and it needed to be repaired.

In all honesty, I was a bit relieved to finally have a moment alone. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy his company; it was more about my own need for a time of quiet reflection.

But my roving thoughts always brought me back to the same subject—Jasper.

They say idle hands are the devils tools, and I supposed the old saying was true.

Somehow, I found myself pacing around Jasper's desk, wondering about what he was up to with his woman, wondering who she was, and if he loved her.

But it was much more than curiosity about the woman that finally made me search through the drawers of Jasper's desk to find his journal. It was my insatiable curiosity about the man.

Who was Jasper really? Why was he so guarded and pained?

I lied to myself and made excuses about why I thought that knowing more about Jasper would somehow be a benefit to us all, but as I lifted the small leather-bound book with handwritten passages, my hands began to sweat, and my heart pounded against my ribs. I knew how wrong it was to pry, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

I flipped the pages until I found his latest entry. As the book fanned open, Jasper's clean masculine scent reached my nose. I inhaled deeply, realizing how much I'd missed him, before scanning his neat cursive writing. The sight of my name drew my eyes halfway down the page.

Before I could read anything, a floorboard creaked out in the hallway, causing me to lift my eyes from the journal, and there stood Peter, just beyond the doorway, watching me in silence, a look of disappointment on his face.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Bella, whatever are you doing?"

"Oh! You startled me. I didn't hear you come in." I stammered as I attempted in vain to hide the book behind my back.

Peter rounded the desk and held out his hand, and I sheepishly handed over the small brown book.

He pursed his lips as he tucked his brother's journal safely away into his jacket. "You're curious about Jasper. He's charmed you." Peter spoke in statements, but I felt as if I were being questioned.

"I am curious. Not only about Jasper, but about you as well."

My response caused the displeasure in his eyes to soften.

"There shall be no secrets between us, my dear. You don't have to go searching for answers, all you have to do is ask."

When I opened my mouth to speak, Peter interrupted me.

"Not now. Tonight. Let's go have dinner at the hotel. It'll give you an excuse to wear your new dress, and it will give me an opportunity to make you forget about my brother. Then on the ride back home, I promise to answer any and all of your questions."

"But, Jasper said we shouldn't leave the cabin."

"I really do wish you'd stop worrying about him." Peter sighed and reached for my hands. He made a little face that could almost be described as pouting, and it was my undoing. I realized then that I'd follow him willingly just about anywhere.

"It _would_ be nice to get out."

"Yes."

"And eat at the hotel."

"Yes, then? You'll come with me?"

"All right." To be honest, I was giddy with excitement, and I could tell Peter was too, which made my heart fly.

"Would you like to wash up before we go? I could bring the tub in for you, if you'd like to take a bath while I finish fixing the gate."

"That sounds wonderful. Will you be taking a bath after me?"

"No. I'll just wash up outside. Take as long as you like. Come get me when you're done. I'll be waiting. Holler if you need me to scrub your back for you." He raised a scandalous eyebrow, then sauntered out the door.

I declined his offer of _help_, but I still enjoyed every second of my bath. I soaked until my fingers wrinkled, and then made an extra special effort to put my hair up and look nice for Peter, since he had gone out of his way to be so accommodating. I'd never had someone treat me so well, and as I put the shawl around my shoulders, over my new dress and made my way outside, I had all but decided that I could very easily fall in love with Jasper's younger brother.

And then I opened the door and saw Peter standing beside the small carriage, waiting for me, and my legs became weak at the knees at the sight of him. He had cleaned up nicely, and was a vision in his black suit and burgundy vest. The color nearly matched his eyes. His shoulder-length blonde hair was swept back and tied with a leather wrap, and he wore a fancy riding hat, with a tooled-silver band, that I had never seen before. My brain seemed to cloud with admiration at just how handsome he looked, and I could scarcely focus to wonder why it was that I'd never fully noticed how dashing he was before.

His eyes, which had once filled me with dread, were quite beautiful and unique in their own way. They sparkled with anticipation, and I felt sure that he could see the same sentiment mirrored in my own.

It would be a grand adventure, a rare pleasure, to ride with Peter and to be courted as a lady.

"You look beautiful, Bella." He took my hand and assisted me up into the waiting carriage. The eager look on his face turned into desire as we touched, and I had to force my eyes away.

He sat beside me and pulled a thick woolen riding blanket up over our legs. His fingers lingered a bit longer than necessary over my knees as he adjusted the fabric. "Are you comfortable, my dear?"

"Yes, very." My cheeks flamed with blush.

I heard him chuckle, and we were off.

The evening air was cool and crisp. It was nearly Spring. The trees had small green buds just beginning to form on the tips of their branches. Everything seemed ripe with possibility and hope. The darkness and cold of the Winter had finally broken and life was starting anew. All around us and within me, life blossomed with new hope.

We rode at a slow pace down the trail through the forest and when we finally reached the main road, Peter urged the horse to go a bit faster. It was exhilarating. The buggy was small, had two wheels, and was built for speed. By the time we reached the hotel we were both laughing, and to be honest, I had never felt more alive.

It was still light out when we reached our destination. The sun was low in the painted sky. Over the tree tops, the clouds were awash in the rich colors of pink and orange. I paused to take in the view. Peter stood beside me, and placed his arm around my shoulder. When I looked up at him, I found that he wasn't looking at the sky. He was studying me.

The look on his face was uncharacteristically serious, and before I had a chance to ask him if anything was wrong, he ducked his head down and captured my lips in a kiss.

I had never been kissed before, was hardly expecting it, but found it to be a most marvelous sensation. I was melting inside and forgot how to breathe, but Peter's strong arms wrapped securely around my body, and pulled me firmly against his hard, broad chest, holding me up as I swooned.

He tasted like sweetened cinnamon, and once I remembered how to breathe, I began to kiss him back. Vicki had told me that kissing was unimportant to the customers, and hadn't given me any instruction, but I must have been doing something right because when I moved my lips in time with his, Peter's hold on me became ever so tight, and I heard him make a most pleasant noise in his throat—as if he were enjoying something delicious.

He must have forgotten to breathe as well, because when he pulled away from me he gasped and appeared as if he might faint. His eyes fluttered closed, and he placed his fingertips over his mouth as he inhaled a great breath of air.

"Are you all right?"

His eyes popped open and it surprised me to see that they were black. "Oh, I'm _much _better than all right."

He continued to stare at my lips. I was sure he wanted to kiss me again. He shifted from side to side then looked between me, the hotel, and the cover of trees that stood just beyond. "Would you like to go for a walk before dinner?"

It was a beautiful evening, and normally I would have said yes, but the new corset I was wearing made walking, sitting, and even breathing a bit uncomfortable. "I'm not really dressed for taking a stroll, Peter. All of these fine underclothes you bought me are going to take some getting used to." I sighed and the intake of air unintentionally made my bosoms heave.

Peter noticed, and spent a rather long time caressing my body with his eyes. It felt as if he were undressing me. "Ah, yes, you're wearing the corset now," he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He fumbled around in his pockets until he retrieved his dark glasses, put them on, and then offered me his arm. "I really do hope to get to see it on you one day soon. Perhaps tonight?"

I would have been offended, if not for the awkward smile on his face, showing that he meant no harm. He was only making one of his jokes, so I just grinned and nodded politely. We were courting, and if it led to marriage, he'd eventually see me in the corset and a whole lot less.

If kissing him were any indication of things to come, I surely wouldn't mind attempting some of the physical acts of love I had learned about back during my stay at the saloon.

The thought of sharing my body with Peter made me blush again, and I could tell from what he said next that he had been thinking along the same lines.

"You little tease." He joked as he ushered me into the foyer. "Bringing me here to this hotel, when you know how much I value my virtue."

"Don't worry, kind sir. You'll be safe with me. I promise. I'm a lady."

We were seated in the restaurant and ordered two specials. Peter continued to stare at me across the table as if I were something on the menu, while I glanced around the room at the other diners and the busy workers coming and going.

Even though he had chosen a table near the back of the room in a dark corner, we seemed to be drawing attention. It was hard to ignore the side-eyed glances and the hushed whispers of some of the hotel's patrons.

"Those people are looking at us," I murmured.

"It's me. They're convinced I'm cursed," Peter answered. The happiness fell from his face, and he became serious as he unfolded his napkin and arranged it across his lap.

"It must be so lonely for you." I reached across the table and touched his hand sympathetically. I was no stranger to the feeling. Even before I'd been kept as a prisoner in the saloon, I spent most of my time without any friends or family. My father did the best that he could to provide for us, but he had never been very sociable.

"My _condition_ often complicates things."

Not wanting to ruin the evening with talk of his problems, I squeezed his hand. "You have me as a friend now, Peter."

"And I'm grateful for your friendship, Bella, but I can't help wishing for something more."

The waitress cut the growing tension between us by setting down our plates. There was fried chicken, mashed potatoes, collard greens, and a basket of hot bread with butter.

Before the woman had time to leave, Peter ordered a bottle of red wine to celebrate.

"What are you celebrating tonight?" I asked, wondering if it might be his birthday.

"_We_ are celebrating our engagement."

I nearly choked on the cool water I'd been taking a sip of. "How can we be engaged if you haven't asked me yet?" I sputtered, bringing the crisp white napkin to my lips.

"I'm sorry for not being more romantic, my dear. Would you like me to get down on one knee?"

"No, no." I begged. "Stay in your chair, _please_."

"Well, you see, Bella. You're it for me. I knew it the moment I saw you in that saloon, wearing that white dress. I just had a feeling about you, and if you agree to marry me, we can spend the night here in the hotel, then go get married come morning."

"But . . . but . . . but wouldn't you like for your brother to be at the wedding?"

"Him again?"

The waitress set the bottle on the table, along with two wine glasses. Peter waved her away and filled each glass with deep garnet liquid with a look of disdain on his face.

"Don't you and Jasper get along?" I wondered.

"We usually get along fine, but we've come to a difference of opinion over you. He's decided that I can't have the only girl I've ever wanted because he might like her, too. He's doing it just to spite me, and the proof of it is that he's gone off to be with his other woman."

"Oh." My heart fell to my feet. Jasper _had_ run off in a hurry, and it didn't seem fair for him to have two women waiting on him while Peter had none. "How can I be sure you're not hiding a woman away as well?" I questioned anxiously.

"I told you there would be no secrets between us, and I meant it. There was once a lady I thought about courting, but she was in a horrible accident and passed away. I'm awfully, powerfully alone."

I believed him, but didn't like the thought of coming between Peter and Jasper—to make them argue or fight. I didn't want to drive them apart and one day be resented for it. It was then that I understood Jasper's way of thinking. Being the older brother, he was trying to do the sensible thing and get rid of me to avoid trouble. I knew that no matter how charming Peter was, or how good he kissed, it would tear the brothers apart if I married him.

I considered my options as we ate the wonderful meal. I tried to drown my worries with food and drink, but I was fearful. What would I do if I refused Peter's offer? Would he send me away? Where would I go?

As I pondered the current worrying situation, across the room I noticed a woman whose eyes mirrored the same fear and apprehension I felt inside. She was in my direct line of sight. The man who accompanied her had his back turned to me. There were dark circles underneath her vacant brown eyes and she looked beyond sad. I would have said that she looked broken, and no one else in the restaurant seemed to pay her any attention or notice the young woman's turmoil.

Maybe no one looked at her because she was a native. Her deep complexion and jet black hair set her apart from the other patrons. Maybe they felt she shouldn't be in the white man's establishment. I wasn't sure why, but I felt an instant kinship with her.

"You have to make up your mind, darlin'." Peter spoke softly as he refilled my wine glass. "I've already made up my mind about you. There comes a time in a man's life when he leaves his family and starts one of his own."

Returning my gaze to Peter, I said, "That's why we should have a good _long_ courtship. We haven't even discussed anything, like having children." I took another sip of the wine. "How do you know we're going to agree about all the important issues?"

"Hmmm. I guess you're right." Peter's brow furrowed. "Stuff like that doesn't matter to me, but it might matter to you, and I've gone and overlooked it. I can't give you any children, I'm afraid."

Peter's mood dropped, and I figured that he didn't want to pass on his strange pallor and red eyes to another generation. "I don't _have_ to have children, Peter. I've never had any, so I doubt I would miss them." I offered, trying to make him feel better.

"Then you will marry me? Be my blushing bride?"

"But, Jasper—"

"Jasper can suck a toad! He can't give me all the things you can, honey. I need a woman."

"But … but … I don't think I can just run off tonight and marry you on such short notice."

"Then be my lover." His hand reached under the tablecloth, grazed my thigh, and sent sensations I'd never felt before coursing through my body. "Tell me you'll kiss me again."

I _did _want to kiss him again. The wine had made me warm and pliant, and I couldn't come up with any good excuse or reason _not_ to kiss him. The thought of it sent liquid electricity through my veins, and everywhere his fingers touched tingled with heat and need.

The only uncomfortable sensation was the corset that was digging into my sides, begging me to take it off.

"Say it. Say you'll let me hold you tonight and kiss me again."

His sweet breath tickled my ear and affected my brain, for my ability to think good and righteous thoughts had been forgotten. "I _would _like to kiss you again," I sighed.

Before I had time to change my mind, he dropped his napkin over his plate and hurried off to get a room. I sat alone at the table wondering what I had agreed to.

The forlorn young lady with the dark, haunting eyes seemed to be trying to communicate something to me. I felt like she was crying out for help, but unfortunately, I had no help to offer her.

Just before I looked away, the man at the table turned in his chair, and I caught sight of his profile.

My blood ran cold as I realized that I knew him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi Friends! I hope you are all doing well today, and staying warm!**

**Many people have been asking about the direction of this story in the reviews. Although I blatantly hinted at it in the summary, I feel the need to disclose, clearly and obviously, that this story will eventually be a poly relationship, no slash. Anyone who is uncomfortable with the idea may stop reading at anytime. If you are on the fence about it: it'll be tasteful. If you are excited about the idea: Calm down dirty bird, it's coming, I promise. **

**LOL! (I'm a member of the latter category, if you were wondering)**

**Before I forget. Someone asked me who the Peter in my cover image was. It's Jason Lewis ;) But it's your brain, so feel free to 'see' Peter as who ever suits you.**

**If you don't see Jasper as Jackson Rathbone: *sigh* There's nothing I can do about it. Still your brain.**

**As always, GeezerWench made this chapter cleaner, really very pretty, and better to read with her phenomenal pre-reading! Thank you!**

**(I'm a mess.)**

**She just published a new exciting story that won Third place in the "Get Your Southern On Contest" YAY! Go read and review (if you haven't already) It's called "Wild, Wonderful West Virginia" AND I love it! Super hot Jasper!**

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><p>The man was James.<p>

I squeezed my eyes closed tight as the room started to spin.

_No! _

My heart jumped into my throat. I frantically scanned the room, looking for a path to the front door in which he might not notice me pass. I couldn't let him see me, especially wearing a fine-looking dress. He'd delight in tearing it from my body, if only to bring me down a notch. All the hotel patrons would be forced to look on in horror. That was just the type of low life the man was.

And he'd shoot Peter just for the fun of it.

We needed to leave.

_Now!_

Trembling, I pulled myself to my feet and edged my way past his table, attempting to keep my back to him, hoping he wouldn't notice who I was, wishing he had enough rotgut in his system to blur his vision.

As I made my way to the front desk, where Peter stood procuring a room, he noticed immediately that something was wrong. My arms stiff, my lips tight, my heart beating a mile a minute, I nearly fell sobbing into his arms.

"You look as white as a ghost, darlin'. What's wrong?" He worried.

"We need to leave," I whispered with urgency, fearful that James could recognize my voice even across the crowded room.

His face laced with concern and uncertainty, he didn't hesitate. He turned to the man behind the desk, paid for our meal, and canceled our room.

"I . . . I'm not feeling well. I think the chicken was bad," I hastily lied. "Please . . . can we just go outside?" I tugged gently on his arm, wishing he'd move a bit more quickly.

He took my hand. "You're tremblin' like a leaf. Let's get some air."

We walked out into the night. I gulped in the frigid air. It burned my lungs and frost overtook my clammy skin, but I was free. The need to protect Peter and myself, to put even more space between us and the hotel, was unbearable.

"I hope you're not takin' ill."

My teeth chattered in response.

"There's a blanket on the carriage. Let's get you settled." He turned to get the horses.

It was at that moment that I felt a prickly warning tickle at the back of my neck, and I heard a door slam behind us.

"Hey!" James yelled across the dusty yard, a mere fifty feet away.

I turned to see the outline of him and the young Indian woman illuminated by the lantern beside the hotel's door.

Peter and I stood in darkness. It was my only hope, the last hope— to escape my former captor. That he wouldn't follow us, that he wouldn't be sure it was me he saw amongst the shadows.

James yanked the poor woman closer to him as he squinted into the night. She tripped and made a pitiful sound as she struggled to regain her footing. The villain lifted a match up to a cheroot he held between his teeth and lit it. "Hey, fella. You're that 'bina that bought that girl off of my old woman 'bout a week ago, ain't ya?"

Peter's body grew rigid as he turned to face them. The air was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife. There was anger behind his icy glare. His voice was as quiet as it was deadly. "Is that the bastard, Bella? Is that the man that beat you?"

I began to feel faint, and feared we might never make it back to the waiting carriage. In a last ditch effort at escape, I leaned into Peter and begged him to help me up into the seat.

"Damn it, Bella. You saw him in the hotel didn't you? That's why you got sick all of a sudden. 'Bad chicken' my ass." Peter hissed through clenched teeth.

I swear I heard the wood of the carriage groan and splinter beneath his grasp.

"You got somethin' that belongs to me, 'bina," James shouted as he flipped the fabric of his jacket aside. The pearly white handle of his handgun gleamed in the lamplight. "I never got my money. It burned in the fire. The fire I hear tell _you_ started, ya' white devil."

"She's not yours, she never was, and never will be." Peter spat. His jaw looked to be clenched so tightly, I feared he might break a tooth.

"He's crazy. He'll shoot us both. Let's get out of here!" I pleaded, but Peter was immovable.

James took a step forward. "The girl is mine, and you know it. I'm sure you've seen my name written all over her pretty little backside."

Then everything seemed to happen at once. James drew the six-shooter from his belt and aimed it toward us. The native woman lunged into him just before he fired off a couple of shots. Peter darted in front of me faster than my eyes could register, shielding me.

There was a series of sickening thuds and a pitiful grunt. I peered over Peter's shoulder to see James pistol whipping the young woman, and she fell to the ground.

Some concerned men rushed from the hotel, and the brutish beast escaped into the forest, but I wasn't even certain Peter noticed any of that; he was too busy checking me over for bullet holes.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, but Peter—your arm."

"It didn't touch me. Just grazed the fabric. You're sure you're all right?" he asked again.

"That poor woman's not all right," I gasped.

Peter's spine stiffened. "_She's_ bleeding."

"She might have just saved our lives. We should go help her."

"Oh no, honey. That's not such a good idea. You see—"

But I had already scrambled around him and was making my way over to the dark woman's prone form. She lay there unconscious, blood spilling from her temple.

I pushed past the onlookers. There were a few men that stood around her body not really doing anything, while their women beckoned them to come back inside to safety.

"Is she alive?" I wondered aloud.

An older-looking man with white hair knelt down, pressed a handkerchief to the woman's temple, and felt for her pulse. "She's alive. You know her?"

"No, but I'm beholden to her. She pushed that man with the gun, the one who was shooting at us."

"Well, I suggest you get her to a doctor then, and fast," the man said dismissively. He got up abruptly and handed me the crimson handkerchief, glad to pass the burden onto the shoulders of another.

I turned to find Peter beside me. He didn't look very happy.

"We have to help her. She—"

Peter lifted the woman, easily. "You don't have to convince me, dear." He said one thing, but his countenance portrayed another. He looked livid as he sat the woman's limp body on the bench seat with a thud. "You best try to stop her from bleeding all over the place."

I climbed up beside her and did the best I could, using the handkerchief to staunch the blood.

And we were off, with Peter driving toward town like a mad man. Part of me felt glad for his haste, the other just wished he'd slow down. His body looked tense and his jaw muscles ticked, as the horses carried us down the trail.

We went over a bump and I almost fell out of the carriage. "Slow down a little. We won't get there any faster if you tip us over."

"I didn't realize we were going that fast." He apologized and gently reined in the horse.

"Unnnngggg." The injured woman stirred, and spoke a few words in a language I didn't understand. She blinked her eyes a few times to clear her vision and then jerked away from me in fear. "James!"

"Shhhh . . . quiet. You're safe. He's gone." I soothed.

"Aie-ya, my head."

"You'll be all right. We're taking you to the doctor. What's your name?" I asked as I helped her sit up straight.

The woman let loose a string of words in her native tongue, before she groaned. "No doctor."

"No doctor?" I repeated.

"Stop. Stop now! I'm going to be sick."

Just as Peter got the horse under control, the woman hung her body over my lap and retched onto the trail.

"This night just keeps getting better and better." Peter sighed.

"No doctor." The native woman exhaled as she slowly pulled herself upright. "My tribe forbids it."

"And where is your tribe?" Peter asked. "We'd be glad to take you there, wherever they might be."

"I'm never going back to them." Her voice was tinged with sadness. She brushed her matted, bloodied bangs away from her face.

"It's too late to worry about traveling _anywhere. _Since you can't go to the doctor, you should come home with us tonight and get some rest." I offered.

Peter's spine stiffened.

I turned toward him questioningly, but he looked away. "I'm Bella, and this is Peter. What's your name?"

"My name is White River, but everyone calls me Leah."

I placed my hand on top of hers. "Thank you for saving us back at the hotel. You were very brave."

Peter scoffed quietly as he turned the carriage around, and the sound boiled my blood. Was he against helping this poor woman? Or maybe the man was as closed-minded as the others who had dared not look in her direction inside the hotel. "What's going on with you, Peter? She has a head injury. Don't you think we should help her?"

The tightness in Peter's jaw softened and he sighed an apology. "Yes, it's the right thing to do." He spoke plainly so that Leah could hear. "You're welcome to stay with us tonight. I'm not angry at you. I'm so mad that James got away I could spit."

Terror filled Leah's dark brown eyes. "James escaped? H-h-he's alive?"

Peter nodded and stiffened with anger once again. "If Bella hadn't insisted on taking you to the doctor, I would have followed him and killed him myself."

I touched his shoulder gently, soothingly. "We both hate him, but it would have been folly to follow an armed man into the forest without a gun."

He ground his teeth together in protest. "I would have killed him with my bare hands, but don't you ladies worry, as soon as Jasper gets back, killing James is the _first _thing I'm gonna do."

Leah turned to look at each of us. "You know James?"

"I do." I answered. "And I know just how cruel he can be."

I spent the whole ride back to the cabin telling Leah about my unfortunate stay at the saloon, omitting the bit about my virginity being auctioned. That part was much too private to share. She listened intently while cradling her battered temple in the palm of her hand.

When we arrived, Leah refused to let Peter steady her as she weakly made her own way up the steps and into the kitchen where I offered to help clean her wound.

Peter brought in enough water for a bath and then made himself scarce, but he didn't go far. His pounding footfalls on the front porch rang out through the cabin. As I stoked the fire in the stove, and heated the kettle I pictured him pacing around outside in the dark, plotting his revenge against James, and I could hardly blame him.

When Leah began to remove her plain brown dress, she seemed to do so with difficulty. I reached out to help her, and a pained hiss escaped her lips. I saw it then. Her back had been whipped, mercilessly. The wounds, which looked to be a few days old, hadn't been treated. Some of the marks were infected and oozed pus. Some of her scabbed flesh had dried and fused to the fabric of the dress.

"Oh, dear. Let me help you. If we soak this area with hot water, I may be able to salvage your dress." I didn't have many supplies on hand, and cursed the fact that she didn't want to go to the doctor. I hoped the whiskey would be strong enough to clean out the angry gashes I knew James had left behind.

The kettle whistled. It took two hands and all my strength to lift it from the stove and pour its contents into the waiting tub. I mixed the scalding, steaming water with buckets of tepid water until the temperature was bearable, and at long last, Leah sank into her bath.

I cautiously cleaned her back. She never flinched or complained, although I was sure the alcohol must have burned like fire against the open sores. It wasn't until after I had finished that she seemed to relax and let go. Slowly, her shoulders drooped, her head bowed over the water, and she cried.

I wanted to comfort her, but I wasn't sure that showing her my scars would be a good idea. Instead, I only told her how James had beaten me as well, and that I had healed.

"I deserved this." Leah wailed out a pitiful moan.

"No. Nobody deserves to be treated that way."

"I do."

I swallowed thickly and watched the despairing woman stare at her reflection in the water of the tub, as I waited for her explanation.

"I dishonored my people," she said without lifting her gaze.

Not knowing what to say about her admission, I stood up and walked over to the window. "He beat me too, Leah, and there wasn't anything I did to deserve it."

"I left my tribe. It was wrong."

I turned and stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

"My husband took a second wife."

I sniffed back the ghost of a chuckle. "That seems like a good reason to get angry, if you ask me."

"That's not why I left. In our tribe, it is expected. We are not bound by the same rules as the white man. There are more women than men, and for that reason it is expected that a man should take more than one wife. It is good."

My eyes widened. "Oh?"

"Yes. I became jealous when my husband's new wife became pregnant. I have not born a child yet, Bella, and I couldn't stand to watch her grow round with his first child, so I left."

"I'm sorry, but I still don't think that sounds like reason enough to get beaten on by James."

Her voice grew cold. "He did more than beat me."

"And you can't ever go back to your people?" I wondered.

"I'm sure they wouldn't want me."

"Well, you'll be safe here with us for a while. At least until Jasper gets back, then we _both_ might have to find a new place to go," I said sadly as my earlier worries returned.

After she was good and clean, I took Leah into my bedroom, helped her into one of my shifts, and assisted her into my bed. She was exhausted, and her eyes closed as soon as her head settled onto the pillow.

By the time I had changed into my bed clothes, and put my fine dress into the wardrobe, Leah's breathing had evened out and become more shallow. I was glad she had fallen asleep. My heart couldn't help but ache for her. The shadows under her weary eyes were nearly as dark as her damp, black hair.

I closed the door softly and padded back into the kitchen. Peter was nowhere to be found, and I was dog tired. Instead of tossing the bath water out, I put Leah's dress in the tub to soak, and then opened the door and called for Peter.

He didn't respond.

The rifle was in its place above the door, and I debated whether or not I should get it down.

_Where had Peter gone? Why didn't he answer me?_

For the moment, I was too tired to care. Ignoring the rifle and forgetting about Peter, I decided to make a pallet to sleep on in front of the fireplace. As I knelt to the floor, I heard arguing voices in the distance.

Before I could reach the gun, the door swung open, and Peter pushed a small, dark figure into the front room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey ya'll!**

**I was going to wait to update this closer to Christmas, but decided to post it today. You may be really busy this time of year. Lots of people are.**

**Some people can feel sort of blue around the holidays. There is an added stress that seems to come with the season. Some people feel forced to visit with family that they don't like, while others don't have anyone to celebrate with and feel awfully alone.**

**But for others, 'tis a joyous time.**

**So, Merry Christmas to all of you, be kind to yourselves and each other, and I'll be back to my writing by the New Year.**

**;)**

**A BIG THANK YOU! To GeezerWench for her awesome prereading, help, and friendship!**

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><p>By the dim light of a single candle, I watched the shadowy figure lurch forward and then straighten.<p>

He appeared to be young—more boy than man. I thought he might be an Indian by the color of his complexion and straight dark hair. He wore a thick, woolen button-down overshirt, and pants of the same dark blue, almost black, material.

Peter stood blocking the doorway, his hands clenched into fists.

As I shuffled over to re-light the lamps I'd just finished blowing out, I listened to the young man complain, using words of a foreign tongue.

Both he and Peter seemed to be upset about something. The scene was so strange, I wondered all at once if I might be in a waking dream.

"How did you see me? _No one_ has ever caught me before." The boy wailed as if his pride had been wounded. He crossed his arms defensively and then spun around so fast that we almost collided.

Peter appeared behind us and steadied him by the shoulders.

The young man flinched and then sighed in defeat.

I could see him more clearly now. His hair was disheveled and his face was smudged with dirt. He smiled at me uneasily. "Sorry, miss. Um, I was just—"

"Spying on us." Peter growled out.

"I was tracking my sister!" The young man brushed Peter's hands away from him and straightened out his shirt. "My name is Quiet Lake, but all the white folk call me Seth." He smiled more broadly than before, with a grin full of boyish charm. "I may be young, but I'm the best tracker in my tribe." His chest puffed out with renewed pride at his statement, and his voice cracked just a bit, a symptom of puberty.

"Is your sister Leah?" I asked.

He beamed, his face lit up brighter than the sun. "Yes. Is she here? Is she all right?"

Before I could answer, Leah appeared in the doorway and started speaking that strange-sounding language that I couldn't understand. She leaned against the door frame, cradling her head in her hand. Her tone wasn't at all friendly. It appeared as if she wasn't pleased to see her brother.

Seth pursed his lips and fired back at her in their native tongue, using grand gestures and a raised voice. He put her in her place. Whatever he was saying made Leah get choked up.

It was plain she was holding back tears as she stumbled over to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

Her brother followed and slid a chair in front of her, sitting as close as he could without touching, and his once angry tone took on a more soothing timbre.

In an attempt to give the pair some privacy, I turned to the stove, lit it, and started to boil some water for coffee.

Peter, still annoyed at how the whole evening had progressed, sat down at the kitchen table, slapped his hands down hard on his thighs, and started spouting off. "Good idea, Bella. Maybe you should make some coffee, considering we won't be getting any rest tonight!"

Scowling disapprovingly, I wiped my hands off on my night dress and made my way over to the table to apologize for Peter's rude behavior, but before I could say anything, Leah and Seth began to howl in fright. They were shouting something in their language. Their skin paled in horror.

"_Ghost man! Spirit Walker! Cold One!" _Leah cried out. Her finger pointed accusingly at Peter.

Then I realized what all the fuss was about. He had taken off his tinted glasses. I supposed that he had done it on purpose, by the wicked grin he had plastered across his face.

"No! No! No!" I soothed. "He just _looks_ different. He's got a condition. He's not a cold . . . ghost . . . walker, or whatever you call it." The day's fatigue hung heavily on my shoulders. I could barely think straight, let alone get the words out. "Peter, please stop trying to scare them. You should go on to bed. I'll stay up with our guests." It was more of a demand than a request because as I spoke I tugged at his arm until he got up and put his glasses back on.

He refused to go to bed unless I'd go with him, and that was _not_ going to happen. He propped himself against the counter. His arms crossed. His mouth set into a self-pitying frown. His glasses blessedly on.

"You are married to a—" Leah paused as she searched for words. "—a red eyes?"

"Heavens no. We're not married," I chuckled.

"Yet," Peter interjected softly.

The coffee water sputtered, and I ran over to retrieve it, my face as red as the embers burning brightly within the stove. "I keep house for Peter and his brother Jasper. They were both born with the same condition. It's called albinism. They have pale skin and red eyes, and it's nothing to be afraid of."

Seth seemed to perk up a bit. "It's like the legend of the white buffalo."

Leah sucked in a deep, calming breath. Her eyes still wild with fear. "We have legends—other legends—that speak of horrible men with red eyes. _Monsters. Devils_."

"Mr. Whitlock can be _trying _at times," I smiled. "But I assure you, he's not a devil." I set down two mugs full of steaming hot coffee in front of our guests, and took the lid off the sugar bowl.

Seth was scooping sugar into his cup before I was able to set the lid down on the table. His large dark eyes shown with anticipation and hunger.

It was then I realized how thin the boy was. The shirt he was wearing looked to be about three sizes too big. It hung loosely about his soot-covered neck, and his collar bones protruded in a way that looked unhealthy.

I went back to the stove, filled up two more cups with coffee, for Peter and myself, and then opened the pie safe where I kept the baked goods. "Would anyone care for some pie?"

Seth almost vibrated in excitement. "I would, miss, I haven't eaten all day."

"You may call me Bella." I turned again to the cabinet to choose a pie. There were two of them. I had baked them especially for Jasper's return. I hesitated because I couldn't decide which one I should save. "Peter? Does Jasper prefer dried apple or sweet potato pie?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "You made those pies for Jasper? Well then, I say give em both to the boy. You heard him, he hasn't eaten all day, and there's no need to mollycoddle somebody that might not even be comin' back."

I stopped in my tracks, halfway to the table, a pie in each hand. "Not coming back?"

"I told ya where he went and who he's with," Peter sniffed. "Wouldn't surprise me at all if he stayed gone a while, or maybe longer. Now, go on and give 'em the pies."

Setting them down brusquely, I turned to collect three plates and some forks. I didn't feel like eating anything. My appetite was ruined by the thought that Jasper might really stay gone, regardless of how sincere he had seemed about making a hasty return, and that he had been apologetic about having to leave at all.

It turned out that Peter didn't want to eat anything either, which was a blessing, considering the way that Seth tucked into those pies. It was as if he had never eaten before, and feared to never eat again. The young man finished off both pies, except for the one piece Leah had, two cups of coffee, and a quart of milk.

After all of that, surprisingly, he still looked famished, so I opened up a jar of beans cooked with molasses and fat back, that I'd put away earlier in the week, and stood by the stove, waiting for it to heat.

"That sure smells good, Miss Bella." Seth smiled and patted his tummy.

"Thank you for feeding my brother," Leah sighed. "He has a long trip to make come morning—_alone_."

Seth's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "You're coming with me . . . you _have _to."

"I already told you, and I meant what I said. I'm _not _going back." She shook her head resolutely and looked away from the table.

"But, Leah," Seth wheedled. "_I _have to go back at sun up. Mother is worried to death about you, and Father, and your husband, too. He's already sent a message asking Jacob Blackwolf to help find you. We _all _want you to come back . . . _especially _me."

"He sent for Jacob?" Leah blinked in astonishment and toyed with her napkin.

"Yes. He's on his way . . . may be here by now."

I interrupted Seth's train of thought by placing a heaping serving of beans before him, along with a large hunk of soft, white bread.

"Thank you, Miss Bella." He smiled in appreciation and dug in.

"It's nice to see _someone _enjoy my food for a change." I patted his shoulder as if he were an old friend. The boy was a treasure. Leah was lucky to have such a fine young man for a brother.

"_I_ enjoy your food. I can't help it that I get indigestion," Peter mumbled and frowned.

"Earlier when I said that _I _was the best tracker in my tribe it was the truth, but _nobody_ is a better tracker than Jacob Blackwolf." Seth shoved the bread in his mouth and bit off a sizable piece. It quieted him for a moment, but he was practically glowing, thinking about his mentor. It was a classic case of hero worship.

"You can take the brown mare in the morning when you leave, Seth, as long as you promise not to eat her," Peter grinned. It was obvious to me that he was making one of his jokes.

Seth grinned, too. Excited and relieved that he wouldn't have to walk the long way back to his home.

But Leah didn't find any humor in the words. "I wouldn't be surprised if my people _do_ eat your horse, Mr. Whitlock!" Leah scowled. "They're starving. The treaties we made with the white man were all lies. They promised us rations—there has been nothing! We were moved from our lands—"

Seth cut her off, speaking softly in their native tongue. "This red-eyes, and his woman, are good people, Leah. They have helped to keep you safe, and for that I am grateful. _We_ are grateful."

"Yes, yes, of course," Leah blinked back tears and held her trembling bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're just tired," I soothed. "We're all tired and could use a good night's rest. The both of you are welcome to my bed. Tonight I'm going to sleep out here by the fire."

Peter glanced at me longingly but didn't say a word.

Leah stared nervously at Peter, probably still convinced he was one of the devils she'd heard about in her legends. I took her hand and offered, "Let's get you settled. I'll get a few extra blankets for your brother. Then we can _all _get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" Seth wondered. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor."

"I'm sure. I've already made up my place."

Upon realizing that I, indeed, had no intention of sharing his bed, Peter excused himself and made his way to the door. "I'm goin' to get some more firewood and stack it on the porch. Maybe have a smoke. You all get some sleep."

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><p><strong>Psssttt . . . Jasper will be back next chapter.<strong>

**Get excited.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey guys! How's it going? **

**It's cold here. My brain is frozen. Makes writing difficult. : P**

**I'd like to thank GeezerWench for pre-reading this for me.**

**And thank you for reading ;D**

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><p>I woke from a fitful sleep before dawn, and found myself stiff from lying on the floor in front of the wood stove, awkwardly tangled in blankets. The fire was, blessedly, still lit.<p>

After watching the glowing coals for a few minutes, I found it impossible to go back to sleep, so I decided to get up and make coffee.

The sun would soon rise, and there'd be breakfast to prepare. With the way our young guest Seth ate, I wondered how much food I would have to fix.

I lit a candle from the fire in the stove and padded softly into the kitchen.

Before I could fully make it into the room, I was stopped, struck with fear, as I realized, that there, obscured by the dark of night, was a man in the bathing tub I'd left out.

He didn't move, and neither did I.

I stood motionless until my eyes adjusted to the darkness, and became able to make out who was lying so very still in the steaming water. His bare, muscular arms were draped over the edge of the tub, his head reclined, and his eyes closed. It appeared as if he'd fallen asleep.

It was Jasper.

I dared not go any closer.

_How had he arrived and prepared a bath without waking me, sleeping only a few steps away? _

It _had _been a fitful sleep.

But what did it matter? The bigger quandary was what to do about him now.

If I were to say something to wake him, he'd know I'd seen him bathing. If I left him alone, the water would chill. _That_ would surely wake him, but would it occur before sunrise? Before anyone else would be up and about?

I couldn't, in good conscience, let one of our guests walk in and find him like that.

Naked.

I had to swallow because my mouth went dry.

After a few moments of furious consideration, I finally decided that since Jasper was uninformed of our visitors, the best thing to do would be to wake him.

_But how?_

I stood in the doorway pondering over what to do. For how long, I couldn't tell you. The sight of Jasper's pale, masculine flesh, stretched over plains of lean muscles and valleys of roped sinew had my mind reeling. Even though he slept, his face was a mask of trouble and pain, as if he were being plagued by a nightmare.

Unable to tear my eyes away, my feet still firmly glued to the floor, I peered as deeply into the depths of the water as I could manage. Disappointment crept through me when I realized I could see nothing.

I silently chastised myself for being so brazen. Never having fully witnessed the body of an unclothed man, it was simple curiosity that had pulled my eyes downward.

That's what I told myself.

I further assured myself of the purity of my thoughts by forcing my gaze back to Jasper's sleeping face. The worried lines that had been there moments ago had faded away, leaving him looking as peaceful as an angel.

No. I couldn't wake him.

Turning back towards my sad, lonely pile of blankets on the floor in front of the wood stove, I heard a splash and the sound of feet hitting the wood slats of the floor.

Almost instantaneously, my breath caught as a large warm hand gently cupped my shoulder.

"Shhhh."

"Jasper—"

I was turned and enveloped in his crushing arms, his heat, his smell. He held me to him tightly. So tightly, I could scarcely draw breath. My mind raced, all at once between joy and horror.

_What was he doing?_

Days ago, with hardly a word, he'd left in bitter anger on a secretive visit to his mistress Maria. Only to inexplicably return in the middle of the night, where I was shocked to find myself being held in a lovers embrace—him still dripping with bath water.

With my eyes firmly closed, I pushed and struggled against him as my feeling of ire rose. "Release me," I whispered harshly. "Or I shall call for Peter."

"He can't hear you. Open your eyes."

My eyes popped open. I was more concerned about Peter's whereabouts than seeing Jasper naked. Knowing he'd never leave me unattended with the threat of James lurking about in the woods. Unless— "What do you mean he can't hear me? Where is he?"

Yielding to my frantic tone, Jasper loosened his hold.

I took a step back and crossed my arms. He wore a cover around his bottom half, but his top half remained bare. There was a hollow look in his eyes—a haunting, disturbed look, as if he hadn't rested for many days. I might have been put off with his strange behavior, but I was worried for him all the same.

"Peter's not here."

I exhaled a breath in exasperation. "Where has he gotten off to? It's the middle of the night, and it's dangerous."

"Don't worry about where he is," Jasper growled.

He placed his hands about my face, and before I knew what was happening, his mouth was on mine, and I was powerless to stop him. I felt torn in two. My body was instantly aflame from head to toe with passion. There was a gentle desperation about his kisses that begged me to open to him. His tongue swept past my lips and I swear it felt as if the floor went out from under me.

I didn't want to kiss him, but I did, and oh, how it made me feel.

He was eminently skilled at the art, and that's where my thoughts strayed, causing my sudden passion to fizzle.

I wasn't good enough for him _before _his visit to his mistress. Had the woman turned him away? Scorned him?

_What was he doing? Replacing her with me? _

I fumed in silence, and my lips went stiff.

He released his hold on my face, and grabbed me firmly by the wrists. "What did that bastard say to you to turn you against me?"

"Keep your voice down. We have visitors," I reprimanded him sharply.

"I know. They're asleep," Jasper hissed. "Deeply asleep. Now tell me, exactly what has happened to turn me from your heart?"

It was a good thing that he held me in place. I might have run. He was scaring me, really scaring me with the intensity of his emotions. His quiet desperation had raged into a maelstrom. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" He released me from his hold and turned his back on me.

Confused by his actions, I still felt compelled to sooth him. I wanted to reach out to him— to touch him. To assure him that everything would be all right, but instead I stayed right there in the doorway and watched and waited for him to turn around.

He didn't. The minutes passed, and he stayed where he was, bent over the counter.

Finally he spoke. "I thought you were different."

"I . . . I . . . don't understand."

"You saw me for who I was, and you accepted me. You felt something for me, and it was real, and sweet, and pure, and now that's gone."

My heart sank. "Jasper—" Not knowing what to say, my resolve broke. I went to him and placed a tentative hand on the curve of his spine. I ran my fingertips over his scarred flesh. He had been through hell, this man, who was so full of secrets. "You were only doing what you thought was right when you pushed me away before," I said, my voice a breath of air.

"No. Don't say anything. I've brought this upon myself . . . upon us _all_." He dismissed me with a turn of his head.

"Yes," I agreed in all earnestness. "But you didn't mean to, and I understand your reasoning now. I don't want to be the one to tear your family apart. I'll be leaving soon."

"I wish it were that simple. Everything's changed, and I can't let you go." His hands were on me again, this time at my waist. He pulled me tightly into his embrace, and stared deeply into my eyes with sadness. "We don't have much time left, Bella. I love you, let me show you. Now. Tonight."

Words and coherent thoughts escaped me as I was lifted up onto the kitchen counter. Jasper pushed himself between my thighs and his mouth covered my neck with sensuously wet kisses. His tongue slid up and down my skin. Then down further before I realized that he was undoing the buttons of my gown and revealing more of my tender, heated flesh. His hands seemed to work quickly as if he were everywhere at once.

His urgent attention made me drunk with passion and unable to resist. I found myself pulling him closer, wanting more.

And more he gave.

His firm hands found my aching breasts. He massaged them though the sheer fabric of my nightgown, making the tips strain and harden against his talented fingers.

"Damn," he panted. "I want you, but I shouldn't take you here. Let's go to the bed."

He took a step back, and I glimpsed the shadow of his straining masculinity, poking up against the wrap he wore around his waist.

I must have blushed ten shades of crimson before I could tear my eyes away. "Jasper, please. We shouldn't. It would hurt Peter. He asked me to marry him while you were away."

"I know. He told me."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion, and I became cold inside. "Is that why you've suddenly decided to seduce me?"

The look on Jasper's face was pained. "Bella, no."

"Then tell me, where is Peter? Probably fast asleep in his room." I made a move to dart around him and go look, but he blocked me easily with his arm.

"He's not here," Jasper sighed. "I had a talk with him earlier when I arrived. We went outside, so as not to disturb anyone, and he told me everything. He didn't want to. I had to pull it out of him, and he was a bit torn up . . . about me getting back so soon. He had wanted to marry you before I got back. Even though I forbade him to. Even though I expressly told the both of you not to go _anywhere_."

I worried my bottom lip with my teeth, feeling like I had been thoroughly chastised. At the same time, I wondered why Jasper felt he had the right to tell me _or _Peter what to do. "Did you quarrel? When is he coming back?"

"I'll go get him, but not because I want to. Because I need to, and also so that I can see the look on his face when I tell him how aroused you were from my kisses."

"You … you're incorrigible!" My voice rose loud enough to wake the house. If I'd had something in my hand, I would have thrown it at him.

Jasper picked up his clothes from the back of a chair and chuckled softly. "Now he and I are even. I know he kissed you, too. His stink is all over ya'."

I didn't know much at that point besides the fact that I _hated_ Jasper Whitlock.

He smiled even wider then, as if he were proud of himself, and he, unashamedly, began to dress in front of me. "You might want to take a bath and cool off before your fiance gets back."

I forced myself to turn around and started to march into the other room, when I nearly collided with Leah and Seth. "Oh! Don't go in the kitchen. Jasper's in there getting dressed," I blurted without thinking.

Leah blinked her still sleepy eyes and squinted around my shoulder, a ghost of a smile crossed her lips.

I heard the front door close and I assumed Jasper was gone. I hoped and prayed he was, and also that the floor might open up and swallow me whole, so that I would never have to tell the story of finding Jasper in the kitchen to anyone. It was truly beyond all comprehension, and I hadn't the slightest idea of what had come over me, or how to explain what had happened. Not even to myself.


End file.
